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Updated: May 9, 2025
Out in the world beyond Old Harpeth ice-cream and cake may have lost caste as a fashionable afternoon refreshment, having been succeeded by the imported custom of tea and scones or an elaborate menu of reception indigestibles, but in the Valley nothing had ever threatened the supremacy of the frozen cream and white-frosted confection.
There are some men that acquire feminine obligations as rough cheviot does lint and Henrietta is one of Polk's when it comes to the fishing days. He takes her so often that she thinks she owns him and all the trout in Little Harpeth, and she landed in the midst of the picnic with her fighting clothes on.
And out in the soft light that was now slowly fading from the side of the mountain because of the retirement of the sun, I sat me down upon the step of the hut and wrote to my Gouverneur Faulkner this small letter: "Honored Excellency, the Gouverneur Faulkner, of the State of Harpeth: "I go from you into the trenches of France.
They were teetering here and balancing there, but at eleven o'clock Wednesday morning the cyclone that blew me down here across Old Harpeth originated in the directors' rooms of the firm, and I guess the old genties are gasping yet.
Despite spirited cavalry attacks on trains and rear-guard, all were in Franklin by noon and such of the men as could be kept awake were throwing up a slight line of defense, inclosing the town. Franklin lies or at that time did lie; I know not what exploration might now disclose on the south bank of a small river, the Harpeth by name.
"Evelina," he said, as he handed me the empty lunch-basket and also the empty fish-bucket, the first he had ever in his life brought in from Little Harpeth, "I was right about that Hallelujah chorus being the true definition of the real woman only they are more so. I have seen a light, and you pointed the way. Will you forgive me for being what I was and trust me with with good-night!"
Considering the situation, and my intentions, I was a bit frightened as the huge engine rattled and roared its way along the steel rails that were leading me back, down into the Harpeth Valley. But, when we crossed the Kentucky line, I forgot the horrors of my mission, and I thrilled gloriously at getting hack to my hills.
"I want you to myself for a small moment away from your live stock, human and inhuman." "Oh, Matt, there is nobody just like you and you have made this day possible," I said as I snuggled down into the soft cushions. "Honestly, Ann, do you mean positively that you don't want me now?" he asked me as he sent the car whirling into the sun setting over Old Harpeth.
I'm glad you are there and that you are Peter's next of friends or first or Good night!" I muttered, as I closed my eyes on my favorite glimpse of Old Harpeth. The next morning at about nine-thirty occurred Peter Vandyne's introduction into real life. He took it gallantly with his head up and swimming for shore.
"That State of Harpeth has shown that hospitality to one humble youth of France, my Uncle Robert, who has a great gratitude," I made answer to him as I laid my cheek upon the sleeve of his coat, which was of a cut in the best style for gentlemen of his age but always of that Confederate gray, likewise affected by good Cato.
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